His Master's Voice
by IsisLestrange
Summary: Harry's second year belonging to Voldemort. Traumatised and unable to speak, Harry fears he is to be replaced when Voldemort brings home a new pet.
1. Chapter 1

His Master's Voice

Harry woke the usual way, with Voldemort's cool fingers running tenderly down his cheek and throat.

"Good morning, Harry." Yawning and groaning a little, Harry stretched himself out across the bed before sitting up and allowing Voldemort to trail kisses hungrily along his neck and chest.

"You look beautiful this morning." Harry's face remained expressionless as he let Voldemort to stroke his hair, until suddenly his hair was painfully grabbed and his head wrenched up.

"Harry, I'm talking to you."

Harry made an apologetic face and nuzzled his head into Voldemort's hand.

"That's better. Off you go and get dressed then." Harry scurried off to the bathroom to wash his face before putting on the clothes his master had laid out for him.

Every morning for the past year had been the same. The ones before that had been different, worse, but Harry could hardly remember them. It'd been nearly two years since he had first become Voldemort's, and the routine was always the same. It did at least make it far easier for Harry to follow Voldemort's wishes and avoid any more punishments. Harry knew exactly what was expected of him, and it rarely occurred to him anymore to disobey.

They set off together down the corridor for their usual walk. Harry got taken outside once in the morning and once in the evening, always, even if it was raining or snowing. On this particular day it was quite sunny, but still cold, a typical October day. Voldemort wrapped Harry's cloak around him, taking care to fasten it all the way to the top, before taking Harry's hand and setting off around the gardens.

Sometimes on these walks Voldemort would speak to Harry about work, or about something he was reading or even just something he'd been thinking about. Other times he remained silent, but either way Harry never spoke. He'd been mute since the day he first arrived at Voldemort's home. It made little difference to Voldemort, he could read Harry's mind easily if he ever wanted to know what he was thinking. With Harry's defenses completely broken down, it was easier to do so now than it had ever been.

Voldemort was busy telling Harry about his time in Egypt many years ago when suddenly a bird took flight from the tree above them causing Harry to gasp and look around wildly.

"Hey shh, shhh. It's ok sweet one, it's just a bird. It's ok."

Shushing comfortingly, Voldemort pulled Harry's shaking body into his own and held him there until the quivering stopped. Eventually stepping back, Voldemort smiled reassuringly down at Harry and stroked his face.

"Did that scare you little one?"

Harry nodded.

"Don't you know you're always safe with me?"

Harry nodded again, but Voldemort caught the wince that accompanied it, and saw in Harry's mind fleeting memories of his first days in Voldemort's manor. Sometimes, in a swift moment, Harry would have complete clarity in his memories, and then as quickly as they'd come they'd be gone again.

They finished the rest of their walk in silence and on returning Harry rushed straight over to the bed and curled up gratefully beside the footboard with his eyes tightly shut. At first he didn't even move when Voldemort returned with his breakfast, but after a little nudge he sat up and looked down at his knees.

"Harry, look at me."

Harry met Voldemort's eyes for barely a second before looking away.

"Look at me." His master's voice was firmer this time.

Harry managed to maintain eye contact the second time but Voldemort could tell he was desperate to look away.

"I don't want you to think about anything that makes you feel unhappy. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded.

"Good, now come and have your breakfast."

Harry usually slept after breakfast, being too full most of the time to do much else. Voldemort always left for work once he'd made sure Harry had eaten enough. He gave Harry the best of everything, only the very best foods, a wide variety of toys and books to keep him entertained in the daytime, and a specially made fleece lined cushion bed for when he didn't want to sleep with Voldemort.

Despite Voldemort's best efforts, passing the time was not easy for Harry. He woke with a start at around midday and could not slip back into sleep. The room was achingly silent when he was on his own; he wished Voldemort would leave him some music. He lay on the bed a while longer, inhaling Voldemort's smell from the sheets and trying to pretend his master was still there. Eventually he rose from the bed and stumbled sleepily over to the window to see if it was still sunny. He settled on the window seat in the milky sunlight and started to read the new book he had chosen from the selection Voldemort had given him.

At half past one, Voldemort's house elf, Blake, would bring Harry lunch and sit and chat to him while he ate it. He would then get Harry to help him, on Voldemort's instruction, to make the bed and tidy their quarters. But before long Harry would be left alone again.

* * *

When Voldemort returned that evening it was to find Harry lying on the floor by the fire with a large pad of paper before him. Art was one of Harry's primary distractions. Harry heard Voldemort close the door behind him and looked up, startled. He got up immediately and went to Voldemort, throwing his arms around him.

"Did you miss me little one?"

Harry nodded and withdrew from the hug. He looked suddenly fearful when he saw the colourful chalk marks he'd left behind on Voldemort's robes. He looked quickly up at Voldemort to see if he was angry and seeing his master's raised eyebrow panicked him, causing him to look away. If only he could speak so he could apologise and beg not to be hurt. But Voldemort just smiled and shook his head fondly.

"Don't worry pet. It's no problem, see?"

He drew his wand over the marks and they vanished instantly.

"Are you going to show me what you're working on?"

Harry blushed, he hated showing Voldemort his art. When he'd first been bought art materials he'd tried to hide his work around the room before Voldemort got home, but he'd been beaten when they were discovered, so he didn't do that anymore. He hated that Voldemort always told him his work was good when it wasn't. He knew it wasn't, but just the act of doing it sometimes helped him feel better.

His master followed him over to the fireplace where Harry very neatly had his little art studio set up.

"It's very good, is it finished?"

Harry shook his head.

"Well perhaps you'll finish it tomorrow. It's time to put all this away now."

Harry hurriedly set about tidying his things away and then went to wait by the door for his evening walk, feeling both nervous and relieved that his master had returned home. His days spent alone in Voldemort's rooms were empty, but his master's presence filled the room. There would be sound again, interaction, instruction and a lot less time to think.

That day Voldemort was far from silent on their evening walk. He had all sorts of things to tell Harry about his day out in the world, about people and places and politics, and Harry listened attentively. There weren't many things Harry appreciated about his master, but he was always grateful that Voldemort bothered to talk to him, even though he couldn't talk back. Blake did too, but Harry was pretty sure he'd been ordered to. Harry supposed he was the only one Voldemort felt he could talk to so casually. Suddenly filled with gratitude, Harry wrapped his arms around Voldemort's middle, squeezing him tightly before going up on his toes to press his lips against Voldemort's. His master seemed surprised at first, but responded hungrily, holding Harry firm against his body. He smiled smugly against Harry's lips as he felt the boy's desperate need for him. He slid his hands inside Harry's cloak and under his shirt, seeking out his soft, warm skin. Harry moaned, breaking away from the kiss and resting his forehead against Voldemort's shoulder, eyes closed in bliss.

"Is that nice little one?"

Harry nodded, and Voldemort's brief glance into Harry's mind proved it to be true. Voldemort's plan had worked perfectly. He'd turned a fiery, reckless enemy into a docile little pet who sought comfort in him, craved him even.

"You're so precious to me Harry."

To Harry's disappointment, Voldemort was mostly silent at dinner. Harry knew his master had a lot on his mind; he experienced things every day that Harry hadn't experienced in years. Harry rarely saw anyone other than Voldemort and Blake, he knew nothing of the events of the outside world other than what he heard from his master and he certainly never left the manor or its grounds. When Voldemort spoke to him, it was almost as if Harry was reconnected with the world, like he could share in his master's experiences, or at least the thought of them.

Towards the end of the meal Harry looked up at Voldemort pleadingly. Voldemort was a little taken aback by the force of the look Harry was giving him, he wasn't used to such directness from the boy, but didn't have to invade Harry's mind to know that he was begging him to speak, to just say anything.

"Did you want me to speak?"

Harry nodded frantically.

"Are you feeling anxious again?" Voldemort asked, a concerned expression on his face. Harry broke eye contact and looked back down at his plate. Voldemort leant forward and placed his fingers on Harry's wrist, frowning.

"Your pulse is up," He sounded almost accusatory, "What are you afraid of?"

To his dismay, he saw tears start to slide down Harry's cheeks. He loathed having to be patient with Harry when he got upset.

"Hey, pet, shhh shhh, come here."

Voldemort slid his chair back away from the table and patted his lap. Harry hesitated slightly before obeying, an action that normally would see him severely punished. That thought only made his tears flow faster. Voldemort was immensely grateful that Harry even cried quietly. Harry settled into place on Voldemort's lap and leant against his master's chest.

"Now what could you possibly have to be afraid of hmmm?" The sound of his master's voice had the power to both soothe and terrify Harry. He tried to envelope himself in Voldemort's familiar smell, the feel of his robes against Harry's face, which so often relaxed him. Voldemort knew the answer already of course; Harry was still, on occasion, terrified of him, and for good reason. Although Harry rarely had strong visual memories of the things Voldemort had done to him, whenever his master entered his mind at times like these he found remnants of a strong, incapacitating terror.

"You know I care about you don't you? And you know I only do what's best for you?"

Harry nodded but Voldemort knew he was still afraid.

"Have you finished your dinner?"

More nodding.

"Come then, let's put your bath on." After lifting Harry up off his lap, Voldemort took the boy's trembling hand in his own and led him to the bathroom.

"Take off your clothes then sweet one." Voldemort waved his wand and the taps immediately started gushing warm, sweet-smelling water. Harry's expression was completely blank as he removed his clothes and allowed himself to be guided into the hot water. Voldemort knelt beside him and summoned a washcloth. Harry screwed his eyes tightly shut.

"Hey. Come on now. This will relax you."

Harry tried to zone out while Voldemort washed his body but he could feel his panic growing inside his chest. But there was nothing he could do to make it stop. He couldn't even ask Voldemort to stop, as if he would. He felt totally used and powerless as Voldemort's hands slid over him. He focused on trying to control his breathing, and ignoring the voice in his head berating him for his inability to even speak up.

Finally it was over and he was safely wrapped in a bathrobe and left to his own devices for the evening whilst Voldemort got on with his reading. His master read every night, that was part of their routine. Harry put on his pajamas and drank down the warm milk that Blake brought him. Eventually the calming draught began to kick in and he yawned quietly away in the corner pretending to read his book until his master called for him. He immediately joined Voldemort on the sofa by the fire.

"Are you feeling better little one?"

He nodded. He did feel better.

"Good. Won't you sit with me?"

Harry smiled. Voldemort wanted his company. After all, there was no other reason he would feel the need to ask for it. This man really did care about Harry, he was silly to have got so panicky over nothing, and his master had been so patient with him. Harry just had to be good to his master, and his master would be good to him, it was that simple. He lay down on the sofa and nuzzled his head against Voldemort's thigh before resting it there and closing his eyes. The hand not holding Voldemort's book came to rest in Harry's hair where it soothingly massaged Harry's scalp until he fell asleep. Voldemort couldn't help but smirk when he saw the contented look on Harry's face. This game was so easy. At 11 O'clock exactly, Voldemort gently lifted Harry's head off his lap, causing the boy to wake. Harry felt his master's hand caress his cheek and leant into the touch, smiling appreciatively. He felt so completely safe.

"Did you want to sleep in my bed or yours tonight little one?"

Harry looked over at Voldemort's bed and smiled before leaning up to plant a small kiss on his master's cheek.

"Mine it is then."


	2. Chapter 2

**I've decided to extend this oneshot into a fic. Don't worry, I haven't abandoned BB, just struggling with it at the moment. Let me know your thoughts x**

"Harry, come here now."

Harry walked tentatively towards his master. It'd been a long time since he'd seen anyone other than Voldemort. Why would his master suddenly bring someone else in? Who was she? He stopped just before them and examined the girl more closely. She was probably around Harry's age, with pale skin and dark hair like him. Her eyes were green too, and full of fear.

"Harry, this is Kayla. She's going to be staying with us."

Unable to contain his shock, Harry looked up straight into his master's eyes, questioning, begging him to say more. Harry thought his master almost looked uncomfortable. Why was this girl coming to stay with them? A thousand ideas went through Harry's head.

"Come now Harry, I want you to make her feel welcome. She's a long way from home."

'Oh, so kidnapped like me then; but why?'

"Say hello, Kayla."

Harry barely heard the tiny whisper the girl greeted him with. He was starting to realise what was going on. Voldemort wanted this girl because Harry was not enough for him. After all this time, after everything Harry had gone through, Voldemort had decided he wasn't worth it. This girl could talk; perhaps Voldemort no longer wanted a mute slave? Perhaps he craved more sound, more talking in bed, more apologies during punishments, the sound of a young girl's voice calling him 'master'. Harry took a deep, quivering breath. How could this be happening? He should have tried harder, he should have…

"Harry? Whatever is the matter with you?"

Harry sniffed hard. He no longer cared about Voldemort seeing him cry, but he would not show such weakness in front of his replacement. Forcing himself to try to keep his face neutral, he put his hand out for Kayla to shake. Her skin was so soft, did Voldemort like that about her? Did he like her long hair? Her breasts? Maybe this wasn't about sound, but about sex. Maybe Voldemort wasn't enjoying Harry as much as he used to. Maybe there was something that Harry was doing wrong that this girl could do right. He released the girl's hand and then began relieving his master of his cloak and shoes, which he put away especially carefully. After a moment's hesitation, he also put his hand out for Kayla's cloak.

"That won't be necessary Harry, you can show Kayla where to put her things."

Harry's head was beginning to hurt from all the tension in his face, he felt so worthless, so alone. What would Voldemort do with him once the new girl was ready? Would he kill him? Surely he couldn't do that, he cared too much about Harry. But would he send him back out into the world? There was nothing for him out there, who else would possibly want him now he was so ruined? He needed his master to survive.

"Good boy Harry. Now, I thought, seeing as I haven't had time to prepare for Kayla's arrival, that you could sleep with me tonight and Kayla could have your bed? While she's settling in?" It wasn't a question. Harry nodded.

"Now, where's my kiss hm?"

Harry ran into Voldemort's arms and squeezed him tightly before rising up on his tiptoes to kiss his master. He took his lower lip into his mouth and sucked gently before releasing it and pushing his mouth hard against Voldemort's. He stopped when he felt Voldemort's smirk against his mouth. His master dropped his head and whispered smugly to Harry.

"My, my, Harry, enthusiastic tonight aren't we?"

Harry simply gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek before scampering away to put a hot bath on for his master. Voldemort always praised him when he did that. His master may have grown tired of him, but Harry would show him how good he could be and soon he would realise that no one could replace Harry.

Voldemort allowed himself to be led into the bathroom and stripped. Harry even stayed to wash him.

"You're very affectionate tonight, pet."

Harry stroked a small hand up Voldemort's thigh and over his hipbone to his stomach. He heard his master moan softly and knew this was a good idea.

He had hoped he would tempt his master into sex, but his master seemed content with letting Harry bring him to climax in the bath. He started to stand to fetch Voldemort's towel but his master grabbed his wrist.

"I like you like this."

Harry smiled and allowed himself to be pulled into a long, languid kiss. When he pulled back there was a fire in Voldemort's eyes that told Harry that sex would definitely come. Harry tried not to rush drying his master, but he was desperate for them to go on their walk incase Voldemort was going to tell him more about Kayla.

Sure enough, as soon as they were outside Voldemort began talking.

"Thank you for being so agreeable about this, Harry. She's a sweet thing isn't she?" Harry didn't know what else to do so he just nodded.

"She'll probably be quite nervous about being here for the first few days." Harry knew Voldemort was right, he remembered briefly his own fear on being brought to Voldemort's manor, though it seemed this girl was less intent on resisting. Perhaps Voldemort had already broken her. How long had he been planning this?

"She's the same age as you, I think you two will get on quite well. You'll look after her wont you?" Harry nodded again.

"Such a good boy… you'll be such a good example to her."

They walked a little way in silence.

"Is something bothering you, pet?"

Harry shook his head, he couldn't admit to Voldemort how scared he was of losing him. But lying to his master was always futile. He felt Voldemort slip easily into his mind, and all his insecurities and fears came pouring out. He threw himself against Voldemort's body and sobbed uncontrollably. He wished he could talk, he wanted to beg Voldemort to keep him, wanted to promise he'd do better.

Voldemort was slightly alarmed; such a violent display of emotion was unusual for Harry. But knowing what was on Harry's mind, he was very satisfied to know that the idea had caused Harry so much pain. He pushed the small body away from his own.

"Harry, I want you to be quiet right now."

But Harry couldn't stop, not now that he'd started. And he knew he'd be punished for disobeying his master's command, but he needed this, he needed to cry until there was no energy left in his body. His eyes were so full of tears he didn't see his master's hand coming towards his face. The shock of the impact halted his sobs as he looked up at his master in shock and brought up a hand to touch where his master had hit him.

"Don't you dare make that cursed noise for one more second!"

Harry was still gasping from the pain in his cheek, and from the effort of not crying.

"Firstly, I will not have you think such ridiculous thoughts. They're very insulting, and your master is very hurt that you thought such things of him. And then on top of that, you disobeyed me when I told you to be quiet so that I could tell you what's really going on."

Harry's curiosity got the better of him and he fought back the tears and did his best to look apologetic.

"That's better. Now, if you'll let me explain, Kayla is not replacing you. Nothing could replace you; do you understand? You know how much you mean to me. And I know I mean a great deal to you."

Harry nodded.

"But you're going to have to learn to share, Harry. I do intend to keep Kayla as I have kept you, and she will come to bed with us when she is ready."

Harry couldn't believe it, Voldemort wasn't going to get rid of him! But he was still going to keep Kayla, which must mean there was something that Harry wasn't doing right, something that Voldemort wasn't getting from him. He wished he knew what it was. And… to bed? Harry didn't want anyone else to join them in bed, he didn't want this girl there. What if Voldemort realised he preferred having sex with Kayla, and didn't want to sleep with Harry anymore?

"Listen pet," said Voldemort, more gently now. "I did this for you. I know how lonely you get during the day when I'm not around. I thought you could use some company. You are lonely aren't you?

Harry nodded, looking down at his toes. He felt embarrassed about his outburst now.

"You weren't to know pet, it's ok, I understand. Why don't we go and have a lovely dinner together? I'm sure Kayla won't be ready to join us yet, so it'll just me you and me. How does that sound?"

Harry nodded and gave his master another hug.

Harry was on his best behaviour during dinner. He listened attentively to his master's words and smiled at all the right times. While they were waiting for dessert he slipped off his chair and made himself comfortable on Voldemort's lap, nuzzling his head into his master's neck and inhaling his familiar smell. His master was so good to him. Everything Harry needed, Voldemort provided. And now he'd even given Harry a companion, a potential friend. Harry appreciated Voldemort's intentions, but he was definitely not going to let this girl best him. He was going to be the best pet he could for his master. He would be loyal and obedient and affectionate, just the way Voldemort liked him.

He allowed himself to be fed sorbet and summer fruits, kissing his master's cheek in thanks after every spoonful. After they had finished he was carried back into their room and set down gently on the bed. Kayla was lying in Harry's bed, her face red and blotchy and her eyes wide and wary. Voldemort did not acknowledge her presence, his eyes never leaving Harry's body. Feeling elated at the attention he was receiving, Harry knelt up at the edge of the bed and removed the rest of his master's clothes. He noticed with a smug smile that Kayla's eyes were screwed tightly shut. Voldemort pushed him roughly down and Harry smiled adoringly up at him, taking delight in the hungry look in Voldemort's eyes. Pleasing his master was so simple. He felt his stomach fluttering in anticipation as his master leant over him on the bed and began kissing him deeply. He moaned deliberately loudly, for Voldemort's sake and Kayla's. He needed this newcomer to know that she wouldn't be able to change the relationship he and Voldemort had. Feeling cool hands slip up his shirt, he arched his back in pleasure, and put on a blissful expression for his master to see. He wished he could talk, he wanted to surprise his master by whispering to him, by sweetly begging for his cock, but he seemed to be able to convey his longing in his other responses and it wasn't long before Voldemort entered him. Harry had never found sex this pleasurable before. His moans and gasps soon became involuntary and when he caught Kayla sneaking a glance at them he nearly came. He clung tightly to his master, thrusting his hips up to meet Voldemort's, and made him cum in record time.

"Harry…" Voldemort actually groaned in pleasure as he rolled off his young pet and tried to regain his breath. "Come here." Harry gladly snuggled against his master's side, pleased that he could make him feel this way. "You need your master, don't you?" Harry nodded enthusiastically, and kissed a trail up his master's neck. "Now now pet, that's enough, I don't think I can take anymore for today. That was… something else." Neither of them bothered to glance at Kayla, who lay awake shaking most of the night, wishing she were anywhere else in the world.

* * *

Voldemort had not expected such possessiveness from Harry, but was happy to take full advantage of it. Not only did it give him great pleasure to have Harry so willing, it'd also be a great example to Kayla, who'd have to work hard to be as good a pet as Harry. He was looking forward to experiencing her attempts to win his favour, oh the fun he could have, pitting them against each other, both focused solely on pleasing him… He looked over at Kayla. She was facing away from the bed, but Voldemort could tell she wasn't asleep. He turned on his side slightly and began to stroke Harry's face until his eyelids fluttered open. He was greeted with a large, sleepy grin and his pet nuzzling his hand. Harry was clearly just as keen to please as he had been last night.

"Good morning little one. Master has something he needs you to help with."

Harry understood straight away and shuffled under the covers and between Voldemort's legs. When he emerged triumphantly a few minutes later, Voldemort was surprised to find that Harry was hard. His pet got aroused when they were fooling around together, but he had never got hard just from pleasuring his master before.

"What have we here, pet?" Voldemort gripped his young pet's erection and began stroking up and down. Harry gasped and looked a little surprised that his master was going to pleasure him this way. Voldemort normally only touched him during sex, when it was for both of their benefit, but his master had already cum; this was just for Harry's sake. His master's hands were strong and skillful, and Harry soon came undone.

Voldemort didn't regret his decision to touch Harry. As soon as he looked down and saw the look of total contentment on his face, Voldemort knew that the boy would soon be completely and utterly his. It was an unforeseen consequence, but a happy one.

"Kayla dear, come on. It's time to get up now."

Harry noticed with disgust that the girl was crying again. Why would Voldemort want to waste his time with her when Harry was more than happy to serve him?

She rose clumsily and took the hand Voldemort offered her.

"Stay here Harry."

Harry watched, horrified, as Voldemort led Kayla into the bathroom. He heard the hot water running and knew that Voldemort was probably bathing her. He pictured his master running his beautiful hands over her unworthy skin, the girl crying pitifully but not fighting back, Voldemort growing hard again…

He couldn't bear it any longer. Why wasn't his master just going to work like he normally did at this time? He threw the covers off him and stormed over to his wardrobe. He opened the door a little too forcefully, and had to hook the hinge back on by hand. He got dressed, picked up his book and went to sit on the window seat where he pretended to be engrossed in its contents.

Voldemort emerged a while later with a trembling but fully clothed Kayla, whose hair looked jet black now that it was wet. Harry had to begrudgingly accept that she was beautiful.

Voldemort wasn't pleased when Harry didn't look up from his book.

"Harry," he said sternly, "Come here. You will look after Kayla while I'm at work. You will share your things with her and make sure she eats her meals. Understood?"

Harry nodded.

"Good, I will see you both later. He planted a quick kiss on each of their heads before swiftly turning on his heel and disappearing out of the door.

Harry immediately went back to the window seat and read his book. The last thing he wanted when breakfast came was to eat, but he had to keep pleasing Voldemort so he sat next to Kayla and listened to Blake babble. He seemed very interested in Kayla.

"Do you like the food Miss Kayla?"

"Yes sir, thank you."

"Oh you needn't be calling me 'sir' missus. I is only a house elf."

Harry saw her shocked expression and had a sudden realization. Voldemort's new pet wasn't even a witch.

"H…how long have you been here?"

Harry shrugged, not looking up from his book.

"You don't know?"

Annoyed, he held up two fingers.

"Two years?"

He nodded.

Silence.

"Don't you talk?"

Harry shook his head.

"Did you used to talk?" She seemed afraid to see his answer.

He nodded.

"Can I read this?"

They didn't communicate at all for the rest of the day. If Kayla thought they would be best pals and team up against Voldemort then she was sorely mistaken. Harry knew which side he was on and it wasn't hers.

* * *

When their master returned Harry rushed to the door to greet him, and Kayla followed behind him nervously.

"Good evening my two beautiful ones." Harry set about untying his master's right shoe and glared at Kayla when she started on the other. "Well aren't you both a delight to come home to?" He dropped a hand into Kayla's hair as she stood back up and she flinched slightly before helping Harry to undo his robe. "Did Harry look after you today?" She nodded a little too fast and Voldemort turned sharply to Harry, who had been on his way to run his master a bath. "Harry, do you remember what I asked you to do this morning?" Harry nodded and stared at his feet. "And did you carry out that task to the best of your ability?" Harry shook his head. Why was Voldemort so concerned about the wellbeing of this muggle? "Well, I would have liked Kayla not to see a punishment until she'd been here a bit longer, but clearly my expectations of you were too high. Kayla, sweetheart, sit down on the bed there. This won't last long, but I want you to watch." She did as she was told, looking decidedly ill.

"Harry."

It was all he had to say. Harry dropped to his knees and crawled over to where his master was standing. "Harry I gave you an order an you disobeyed me. You know you deserve this punishment don't you?" Harry nodded. "Crucio!" Harry didn't scream, but Kayla did, and after a minute of watching Harry writhe around on the floor she ran to the bathroom, only to find that Voldemort had locked the door. "You will watch what happens when I am disobeyed."

"Stop! Please! Stop it you're hurting him!"

When the curse was finally lifted, Harry saw the look of absolute horror on her face. He realised that being brought here would be even worse for Kayla than it had been for him. She was a muggle, she had probably never seen anyone do magic, let alone any of the terrible things that Voldemort could do.

Voldemort tutted loudly. "I'm very disappointed to be having to discipline both of my pets in one night." Kayla began to sob again and Harry couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her. "Harry. You will have no walk tonight, and will not join me in my bed. Kayla, come here." The poor girl was paralysed with fright, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You heard me. Come here. Imperio." Harry watched Kayla's body drop to the floor and crawl slavishly towards their master.

"Crucio!"

**I would really appreciate any feedback, please leave a review!**


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